The Academy--The Bird and the Beetle

by C. L. Stone

  “We could probably get her one of those camping stoves,” Corey said. “Or if she’s living here, she can come by and cook.”

  I smirked at the sink, sliding my fingers over the counter top. “I love how you guys assume I can cook,” I said.

  Their heads turned simultaneously toward me, eyebrows raised. “You don’t?” they asked together, the same notes of disappointment working through.

  “I thought you guys didn’t want me hanging around after anyway,” I said. I turned, crossing my arms under my breasts and leaning back against the sink.

  “Why not?” Corey asked. “You need somewhere else to live besides that hotel. That place is a rip off.”

  I sighed. I didn’t know the answer to this. I couldn’t afford it now and I couldn’t leave Wil yet. “Anyway.” I tugged at the material of the dress. “Please tell me I can borrow clothes from one of you? I can’t stand this anymore.”

  ♠♠♠♠♠

  Later, I was on my back on the couch in the living room, watching Corey play Assassin’s Creed on the Xbox. I had on a Superman T-shirt that was Corey’s, and a pair of old black boxer shorts that Corey had given me, but Brandon claimed were his. I had a pillow under my cheek and was zoned out staring at the screen while Corey played his game.

  I nudged at Corey’s leg with a forefinger. “There’s a pack of wolves after you.”

  “I hear them coming,” he said, making his video game character dash in circles, dodging and shooting. “Are you sure you don’t want to play something with me?”

  “I would, but I’m brain dead. All I want is to rest here before I go home and go to bed.”

  “Stay here if you want,” Corey said. “We’ll just have to go fetch you tomorrow anyway.”

  They wanted me here tomorrow? I didn’t say anything for a bit, contemplating. Because of all the food I ate and now being done with the stressful job, I was really feeling run down. “Where are the other guys, anyway?”

  “They had to make a stop,” Brandon said. He walked over with an iPad, and patted my legs. I bent at the knee, and he sat down. I wedged my toes between his back and the couch to keep them toasty. He smirked at me. “What are you doing?”

  “Warming my toes.”

  “By putting your cold ones on me?” He nudged my legs. “I’m not your heating pad. Go put some socks on if you’re cold.”

  I pretended I was going to pull my feet back, and instead, dodged his arm, aiming for a bare spot of skin between his shirt and pants.

  “Shit,” he dropped the iPad onto his lap, and captured my ankle. “You keep ice in your feet or what? Stop that.”

  I smirked, drawing my feet in and pushing them at the couch back. “You guys have it freezing in here.”

  “It’s either cold or way too hot,” Corey said. “Want a blanket?”

  “If I take a blanket, I’ll fall asleep. The cold is the only thing keeping me up.”

  “Sleep here,” he said, and there was a note to his tone suggesting he’d prefer if I did.

  I sighed, still not knowing what to do. Tempting, but what about Wil? Not that he couldn’t fend for himself for just one night. And in the moment, probably because I was tired, I didn’t want to leave. One night away from the hotel? In an actual apartment? I secretly reveled in the luxury I’d missed for so long. I was tempted to ask if Wil could come, but didn’t want to make things awkward. And Wil, well, it was one night. “Can I use the phone?”

  Brandon leaned forward, plucking his cell phone from his pocket. He plopped it onto the space of the couch in front of me. “No calling Romeo Coaltar.”

  “I don’t even have his number,” I said. I punched in the number for the hotel and then the extension to reach the right room.

  The phone rang for a good bit before Jack answered. “What?”

  “What are you doing there?” I asked. He was awake? And at the hotel?

  “Kayli?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Where are you? There’s not a red penny anywhere in this place.”

  “Good,” I said. “Where’s Wil?”

  “Don’t tell me good.”

  “Where’s Wil?”

  “Where are you?”

  He never listens! “Where’s Wil?”

  He grunted into the phone. “I don’t know. He’s off doing homework like he does all the time. He’s probably downstairs at that computer. I keep telling him to tell me where he’s going.”

  I didn’t like not hearing from Wil and asking if it was okay if I stayed away one night. I knew the answer, though. He’d be okay with it, and probably would encourage it. He probably had a lot of questions as to why the rent was paid for a month. He’d want to meet the guys. I thought he might like Corey and Axel. He may not like Raven. “Tell him I’m working late. I got a new job.”

  “Where’s this job?”

  “Downtown. Just tell him it’ll be overnight and to get to school. Don’t wait up for me.” At least if I lied through Jack, Wil wouldn’t be able to tell I was lying. I didn’t want Jack knowing the truth. I’d make it up to Wil later.

  I hung up, tossing the phone back toward Brandon and hitting him in the thigh.

  “Who was that?” Brandon asked. “Your dad?”

  “Yeah, he stayed home. Ran out of beer money.” I stretched, pushing my head against Corey and my legs against Brandon. “Where do I find a blanket?”

  “I’ll get one,” Corey said. He dropped the controller, and started heading toward his bedroom. He stopped halfway and turned. “Or do you want to sleep in the bed? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” I said. I didn’t really care. I just didn’t want to get up.

  At the same time, there was a knock at the door. Brandon hopped up, ran over and unlocked it.

  Marc lead the way, followed by Axel and Raven. Brandon returned to where he had been sitting. Corey came back with a blanket and tossed it at me before he sat down, but he held the controller still instead of going back to play.

  Marc spotted me on the couch and an eyebrow cocked. “What happened to you?”

  I turned my head toward them. Long strands of hair fell across my eyes, and I tried to shove them back. “Is he a drug dealer or what?” I asked.

  Raven plunked himself down in one of the rolling office chairs next to the computer desks. “Is that hope I’m detecting in your question, little thief?”

  Brandon made a noise that sounded a lot like a growl. “If he’s not a bad guy, she’s hoping for a date.”

  Eyebrows lifted on faces around the room. Raven smirked. “In that case, yes. He’s a dealer. And a rapist. And a murderer. He murders babies. Girl babies. And puppies. And he rapes them. After they’re dead. Sometimes.”

  Axel popped him on the back side of the head as he headed into the kitchen. “Just stop talking.” He headed toward the fridge, opening it. “Tell her, Marc.”

  Marc frowned, and he crouched down close to the couch. His hand drifted up, pushing back some of my hair from my forehead. “You about to pass out? You look like shit.”

  “Not that,” Axel said. He fished out a bottle of water and opened it. “Tell her the other thing.”

  “We didn’t find anything,” Marc said.

  I got up on my elbows, nearly bumping into him. “What?”

  “He didn’t have anything at his office.”

  “You mean he’s clean?”

  “I mean we didn’t find anything. Not a paper. Not a computer. Nothing. It was a storage unit for empty boxes, a desk, and a couple of filing cabinets that were empty.”

  I held my breath. That ... wasn’t right, was it? Did he have it emptied? Or was it always like that? If he purposefully showed up there before he went out to talk with drug dealers, it didn’t make sense to stop by an empty office first. “A decoy?”

  “Yeah.” He settled back onto his heels, planting his palms on his thighs. “Looks like we bothered you for nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,�
�� I said. “Now you know he’s hiding something worth hiding, right? What’s the next step?”

  Marc’s face lifted. “Pardon?”

  “Were you going to follow him around until he did something stupid or what?”

  He smirked. “Well, Plan C was probably going to be to try—”

  “Hang on,” I said. I sat up, spinning around, leaning forward. “You mean this was Plan B?”

  He laughed. “Yeah.”

  “What was Plan A?”

  “Try to ask him what he was up to.”

  I felt my eye twitch. “Plan A was to ask him?”

  “We sent Brandon in to get friendly with him. That’s how he got the invitation. Only he wasn’t talking, so we went with trying to break into his office. But don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something else.”

  “There might be a problem,’ Brandon said. He cocked his head my way. “Miss sticky fingers here got a little too close to him. He was trying to piss me off so I’d back off and he could get it on with her.”

  Marc frowned.

  I hesitated, unsure how far I was willing to push these guys, or myself. In the end, I couldn’t resist, though. “Maybe I should take the job he offered me.”

  “Nu uh,” Brandon said.

  “What job?” Axel asked.

  “Mr. Coaltar wants to give her a job working in research with him,” Corey said. “Although I think it was a ploy to getting her to agree to date him.”

  “He just wants in her pants,” Brandon said. “He was coming on to her.”

  “Shit,” Marc said. He yanked his fingers through the soft brown locks, brushing them away from his mismatched eyes. He breathed out slow. “This is bad.”

  “I can do it,” I said. “I’ll be able to keep an eye on him. I’ll scope out his house.”

  “No.”

  “But...”

  “Not now, Bambi. We’ll worry about it later. Right now you need to sleep. We all do.”

  “I want to figure it out.”

  He waved me off, tucked his arms around my stomach, and stood, hoisting me over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said.

  “Ugh,” I dangled precariously over his body. I pressed my hand against his butt to pick myself up so I wasn’t just limp. I punched him in the back with my other hand. “Let go!”

  “Marc,” Brandon barked at him. “You can’t do that to her.”

  “I’m just taking her to bed.”

  “Oh no, you’re not!” I punched his butt and back again. I was disoriented and the blood was rushing to my head, but I aimed for where I thought the kidneys were. Weren’t you supposed to hit people in the kidneys? I thought I read that somewhere.

  “Stop, or I’ll drop you.” He shifted me higher on his arm and walked out the door.

  He marched with me down the hall to his apartment. I punched at him the entire time, and tried calling out to the others to help me, but none of them budged. Their loyalties were clearly with Marc.

  Marc didn’t put me down until we were inside his apartment. He stopped on the carpet in the dining room between the desks and dropped me to the floor. I landed on my side in a heap.

  “Ow!” I cried out. I jumped up, and threw a fist at his chest. “What was that for?”

  He smirked. “I wasn’t going to have you bullying my team.”

  “Who’s bullying who?”

  “You were sprawled out, taking up the entire couch and they had a little bit of space. I saw what was going on.”

  “I had moved over! And I was about to go to sleep. Corey even offered his bed. Why don’t you ask them if I was bullying anyone?” Somehow I didn’t think this was about the other boys at all. He just wanted to separate me from the others.

  Marc had opened his mouth to say something when there was a knock at the door. Finally. Someone had come to their senses and came after me.

  Marc’s brows furrowed. He crossed back to the door, opening it. “Hey,” he said. “Uh ... sorry. I don’t really have time.”

  “Marc,” a female voice said. “I want to talk to you. Just for a minute.”

  Oh god. Drama queen.

  “I can’t, really,” he said. He wedged himself between the door and the frame. “I’ve got a lot of work to do and ... what happened to your shirt?”

  “This?” Sniffle. “Oh, nothing. It was just an accident.”

  “Was it?” he asked, though doubt dripped from his voice.

  I groaned. He was going to give in. I didn’t want to see him tortured, even if he was a bastard. I marched forward. Sure, it wasn’t my business, but I was going to do him a favor.

  I shoved the lower hem of my shirt up and through the inside of the collar, tying it off, as if I was trying to look sexy. I captured Marc’s arm, yanking on him to back away from the door, and at the same time, swung the door open.

  A thin girl, with blond hair and red patches on her cheeks, narrowed her eyes on me instantly. Her shirt was ripped along her side. At a second glance, I realized it was blatantly cut with a pair of scissors, I was sure. The lines were too smooth. There was a red mark along her exposed skin. Makeup. She didn't even have the decency to actually injure herself. “Who are you?” she asked in a highly strung out voice like I was completely unexpected.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said. I turned full on against Marc. “Sweetie, come on back to bed, won’t you?” For a bonus, I leaned in, and planted my lips against his, intending to give him a small kiss.

  His mouth opened in response. His teeth parted, deepening the kiss. His hand drifted up, catching my cheek, and he held my head, tilting his own.

  My heart fluttered in ways I hadn’t felt in a while, and so strongly that it scared me. I pulled back, trying to maintain my ruse and at the same time hide the sudden attraction I felt for him that had become overwhelming. I winked at him, ignored the girl and walked back into the apartment.

  Marc froze against the wall, gazing back in at me. I couldn’t see the girl, but I heard footsteps running away. This seemed to jar him from his daze. “Hey!” He called out down the hall.

  “Don’t encourage her,” I said. “And you’re welcome.”

  He slammed the door and turned on me. "What the hell did you just do?"

  "I cured her from your pussyfooting and dragging this out."

  His head reeled back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  I planted my hand on my hips. "That girl out there has an addiction. All girls get it hard the first couple of times. She cut her shirt and tried using makeup to look injured. I've seen that one before. She thought if you played the hero enough, you'd see something in her and fall in love, or at least guilt trip you into staying."

  His hands dropped to his sides. "That was makeup?"

  "Trust me. What she needs right now is someone to hate. It'll probably end up being me, but that's okay. Giving a girl a let's be friends line doesn't work. They feed on that. You have to cut them off sharply. Give them something to hate, and she'll be on to someone else in a week."

  His hands roughed up the brown hair at the crown of his head. “You can't just do that kind of thing.”

  “She'll have a hard night tonight but give it a couple of days and—”

  Marc launched himself at me. I only managed a half step back before his hands caught my cheeks holding me strongly between his palms. He lowered his head and his mouth met mine.

  Instinct took over, and my mouth parted as he kissed me. His lips crushed against me, and he sucked at my lower lip once before diving in for another kiss. I nearly tripped as he pressed me back, but I planted my hands against his chest and leaned against him.

  When my mind finally caught up to what I was doing, I found a little strength to break the kiss and step back. His hands released me and I found myself with my butt against the computer desk. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, unable to figure out what to say. I had kissed him to save him some trouble. What was his about? Some weird way of getting back at me?

  Marc stared at me.
His chest rose and fell harshly. I willed him to say something, but his eyes never wavered and except for his breathing, he didn't move.

  “Marc,” I breathed a whisper. This was ludicrous. He didn’t know me at all. I didn't know much about him, either. Why wasn't I yelling at him about it?

  Why did I want him to do it again?

  His mouth slowly closed and he swallowed. “If you want,” he said, his voice deeper than normal. “You can sleep in my room. I'll take the couch.”

  After all that, all he wanted to talk about was where to sleep? “How big's your bed?”

  He walked by me, so close that his arm brushed across my body. I curbed the urge to tug him back. I gave it up to being tired. I was just having a weak moment.

  He led the way to the third bedroom door. He opened it and stepped aside, presenting it to me.

  He had a double bed in his room. It wasn't quite as pressed up against the wall but it was close. There were two pillows stuffed up in the middle and the bed was unmade. There was a pile of clothes in the corner, and a dresser. A bookshelf was clustered with books and boxes and disheveled notebooks. It wasn’t disgusting like I’d seen some boys’ rooms. It was just cluttered like he didn’t have enough room for everything.

  I focused on the bed again. “Its wide enough,” I said. “We're both adults. I think we can manage to keep our hands to ourselves. Unless you toss around in your sleep or something.” I don’t know why I offered. I guess even despite what just happened, I didn’t want to sleep on the couch, and I felt too awkward to sleep on the bed knowing he’d be on the couch.

  “Right,” he said. He turned. “I'm going to go tell the guys something. Get in bed. I'll be back in a minute.”

  He left the room and I hovered for a moment, wondering what door I just opened.

  HOW TO ASK A BOY FOR HELP

  I was half asleep, curled up on my side in the middle of the bed before I felt Marc nudge me for more space. I flipped over onto my other side until I was facing the wall.

  At first just the bed shook as Marc slid in next to me. A moment, or an eon later, he pushed his back up against mine.

  “You cold?” he asked.